


A Broken Dream isn't a Wasted One

by justgotowisharder



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Louis, Louis does silly things for harry, M/M, Past Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles, Sad Harry, Sleepy Cuddles, a little bit of, harry wants a baby, louis loves harry, so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justgotowisharder/pseuds/justgotowisharder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were together, just the two of them; reality was far away. Only Louis and his Curly Princess, lost in a little world where chances still existed, dreams weren't broken and a lifetime together was more than just a wish.</p><p>Luckily for them, Louis didn’t believe in wasted dreams.</p><p>(Or the one where Harry wants a baby, Louis is very good with rhymes, Zayn thinks Louis is tacky and everything seems to be a fairytale, but it’s not)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Broken Dream isn't a Wasted One

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I'm kind of making up for my lack of fics in february. I'm having an ideas explosion, honestly. 
> 
> I wrote this on my flight back home, it's silly but i loved writing it and i wanted to post it. hope it makes your day a little bit brighter :) lottie xx

“Honestly, Louis, just write whatever the fuck you want, but do it quickly, my ass is freezing over here.”

It was a cold and misty morning and Louis Tomlinson was knelt in the middle of the street in company of his best friend Zayn. 

“What ass, Zayn? You don't have one, I have a nice ass."

“Shut up,” Zayn told him bitterly. “I don’t want to hear another thing about my ass. Just write the damn message and let’s go inside.”

“But Zayn,” Louis said, frustrated. He stood up, sharpie on his hands. They were supposed to be writing the promotion of the day on the coffee store signboard. “I don’t know... I mean... What should I do to... Make him notice me?”

Zayn was standing on the sidewalk, freezing his balls while he waited for Louis to come up with a witty, memorable and sassy message to catch their clients… Or a _special_ one, specifically.

“Look lad, I’m sorry to tell you this, but if you don’t know the guy, how could you know how to catch his attention?” Zayn asked and quickly lit up a cigarette.

“Shut up, wanker, how dare you?” Louis growled, pretending to be really pissed off. “Curly princess and I have a long, strong relationship.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t be rude. We always stare when he buys his coffee,” Louis argued. He knew his argument was lame, but he couldn’t help it. Even when curly Princess and him hadn't have talked, he was pretty sure that the boy liked him. There wasn’t any other way to explain the way their eyes always found each other.

“Wow, gaze love. That’s so pervert, mate.”

“Fuck you, Malik,” Louis said, punching his friend on the shoulder. “Just because you have a safe pussy to fuck, it doesn’t give you permission to take away my romantic side. Curly Princess and I have a story. I’m his prince.”

“Really? Tell me more,” Zayn mocked him, rolling his eyes.

“I’m his prince, he’s my princess.”

“The villain is missing in your story,” he muttered, playing with the cigarette between his fingers.

“There’s no villain in our story.”

“Whatever you say, mate.”

Louis didn’t worry about sticking with the fight; he limited his attention to the blackboard. With his messy calligraphy wrote:

 

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_If you’re cute and curly,_

_There’s a coffee inside waiting for you._

 

Louis finished his work with a messy drawing of a Frappuccino. “It’s obvious. For the Curly Princess.”

“You’re fucked up, Louis. Really fucked up.”

 

*

 

Louis Tomlinson had his eyes on the Curly Princess since the very first time he stepped inside the store. His prettiness, clumsiness and dimpled smile were the first things that caught Louis's attention; yet then he saw something in his eyes that made him curious.

Behind that endearing dimpled smile, those big and curious green eyes, Louis could read something else: he read the dull spark of a broken dream. He knew well enough how to spot a broken dream, he cared for their dreamers; plus he had a special attraction for cute boys, so… He needed to know about Harry.

Louis had been working at his best friend’s coffee shop for two years. He liked the job, mainly because it gave him time enough to read and study for university. Niall was in charge of the cashier, and Zayn was just another waiter like Louis.

“You don’t even know if he’s gay,” Zayn pointed out next morning, taking a drag from his cigarette. Louis, once again, was standing in front of the signboard.

“Zayn, have you seen the boy? He screams gay.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, lad. He’s usually with this white-haired girl…”

“Lou. She’s a mother and they’re not dating,” Louis interrupted him absentmindedly.

Zayn broke into laughter, but Louis gave no fucks about it. He stared at his friend with a crocked eyebrow and waited until Zayn stopped laughing.

“Honestly… God, Louis,” Zayn sighed. “Ok, but be careful with your words. Yesterday we got an endless line of curly gals because of your witty message. If you can’t catch the guy, Louis, you’ll need to be more… Specific.”

Louis nibbled the tip of his sharpie, thoughtful. Zayn was right, he needed the perfect words and extreme precision if he wanted to shoot straight to Harry.

“I got an idea,” Louis finally said and smiled widely, which wasn’t a good sign for Zayn.

“We’re screwed.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you have happiness inside,” Louis teased.

“I’m happy mocking your pitiful ass.”

Louis rolled his eyes and gave Zayn the finger. Then he knelt in front of the board, this time with a clear idea in mind:

 

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_If you guess my name,_

_The price is for you!_

 

“Amusing way of asking his name, lad.”

“I know,” Louis nodded, pleased with his idea. “I’m such a smart brain.”

Louis was twitchy that morning. He couldn't help it, though, not when he had his hopes on the lovely boy. When he finally spotted him, Louis's heart almost jumped out of his chest.

“Zayn, go away,” Louis sad rudely, he didn’t want to risk his chance of knowing Curly Princess’s name. Zayn did as he was told, just because he wanted to smoke for a bit. “Well hello, curly.”

“Hi!” he said with his mannish and profound voice. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, today has been a quiet morning so I’m kind of… peaceful,” he explained, staring at him while curly get off his jacket. “Did you read the board today?”

“I did!” Curly Princess nodded excitedly. “I have to guess your name, right?”

“Take your chance!”

The guy stood in silence, sliding his finger by his puffy and red lips as he thought, staring at the counter. He finally decided to give it a try: “Arthur.”

“Curly!”

“Ok, no,” he said, chuckling. “Ronald? Charlie?”

“Have you read Harry Potter recently, love?” Louis teased, winking at him. “No, and I’m not Fred or George or…”

“Louis.”

Louis’s eyes widened, staring at Curly Princess, who was smiling smugly.

“How did you… Yeah, I’m Louis. Louis Tomlinson, actually. Well done, curly. Now pick your price and please tell me your name.”

“It’s Harry Styles,” he replied cheerfully. He studied the fruits with a grumpy face, until he finally pointed at the banana muffins: “Mmm… this one, please?”

“Do you like bananas a lot, eh?”

If there was a double meaning on the question, Harry didn’t notice.

“Yes, I do. I really like them.”

“Wait for me, love.”

He set Harry’s order up humming to himself, glancing at his boy by the corner of his eyes. Once done, Harry took it gladly, and before walking away, he said: “Thank you for this promotion, Louis. It’s the first time I win something.”

“My pleasure, Hazza.”

Harry smiled at him and attempted to turn around, but instead he stayed in his place and picked a little notepad from his bag. “Lou, would you mind to tell me your favorite name?”

“My…?” If the question took him by surprise, he did his best to hide it. “Blue? I think its a fine name. Like, it works for both male and female.”

“Blue,” Harry repeated, tasting the name on his lips. “I like it. Thanks, Louis. See you tomorrow.”

Of course, Louis didn’t make a ballerina twirl and hugged Zayn tightly when he came back, happy from head to toes. He didn’t spend the entire day talking about his Curly Princess. Of course, he didn’t.

_(Yeah, he totally did)_

 

*

 

 

Louis pretended he didn’t notice the way Zayn and Niall started to act towards him, as if he was some kind of desperate man trying to get a dick. They started to offer him dates, boys and friends; yet what they couldn’t understand was that Louis didn’t need a man, he needed _Harry_.

Yet Harry didn’t come back for two weeks. Not that Louis was counting (he was, but he had some dignity so he couldn’t let anyone find out). He couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened to him. He couldn’t let himself believe that Harry wouldn’t come back without an explanation; he didn’t seem to be that kind of guy.

If he wasn’t there, something  _must_ have happened.

The explanation came on a Friday night with a crying Harry, broken and in need of affection; with his usually beautiful eyes, all puffy and red; his hair greasy and a silent ache for safety and love.

Louis was closing the store when he spotted the boy standing on the sidewalk, staring at the place where the signboard was. His heart almost jumped out of his chest when he saw the boy, and he was ready to act cocky towards him for disappearing without a reason, when he noticed that Harry was crying.

“Shit,” he muttered, running towards him. Harry didn’t wait for any invitation; he just collapsed in Louis’s arms and held him tightly. “Harry, what’s the matter? Baby, you’re crying.”

“Please. Please, Lou. Make… Make it better.” Harry wasn’t making any sense, honestly. His words were drowned and confused, desperate trying to form a sentence with no success.

“Hey, let’s get inside, ok?” Louis suggested, pointing at the closed store. “I have the keys and there’s no one but us.”

Harry nodded with the head, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his coat. Louis linked their hands, ignoring how well they fitted together and how much he loved the sensation, and guided Harry to the store.

Louis would have been lying if he didn’t accept that Harry being there made him as nervous as pleased. Of course he wasn’t happy that he was sad, but standing there, crying and showing off his vulnerability in front of Louis… It talked louder than words.

The boy made some tea while Harry stood still on a table, his pretty eyes glued to a floor he wasn’t really seeing. Louis leaned against the counter, watching how his precious little curly princess drew figures on the table with the tip of his finger.

“Hey, here, a cup of tea can solve anything,” he joked, winking at him. Harry tried to smile, yet he only could make a sad grimace.

“Thank you. I’m sorry that I’m here.”

“Shut up,” Louis said, rolling his eyes. He sat down in front of his boy. “Now tell me, what’s bugging your curly head?”

Harry half smiled at the nick name. The tip of his tongue slid by his rosy lips, moistening them; not aware of the hunger that caused on Louis such a simple motion.

“I’m just sad.”

“Why?” Louis pushed because he knew that Harry wasn't talking because he didn’t want to be annoying, not because he really didn’t want to do it.

“My family.”

“Babe,” he whispered, leaning forward to take Harry’s hand on his. “I’m sorry. Divorce?”

Harry shook his head. His state was miserable, and Louis couldn’t stop wondering what made him so upset. “No, not really. Just… Broken dreams, I guess.”

“Broken dreams?” Louis repeated, raising eyebrows. “Haz.”

“When I was younger,” Harry interrupted him, getting braver enough to let his emotions flow away, “and my mom and dad divorced, I hated it. I mean, I know they were better separated and I loved them to death. I’m fine with their divorce. But… I promised that I’d never divorce the father of my kids.”

Louis nodded, aware that Harry had said “father” and not mother. He knew Harry was gay, but he liked to hear it anyway. It gave him hope.

“As far as I know, curly, I don’t see kids by here. So, why has your dream been broken?”

Harry’s body trembled with a broken sob. He held tighter from Louis’s hand. He took a deep breath and slowly, with his manly voice, counted to ten. Louis couldn’t help but feel his heart melting at the sweetness of the boy.

“I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to do such a thing,” Harry confessed and broke into a quiet sob.

“Haz. Hey, don’t say that. I’m sure you’re going to be great father, ok?”

“Why are you so sure?” Harry insisted, eyes wide. “You barely know me.”

“I just know,” Louis shook his head, patting the boy’s wrist tenderly. “And I’m always right.”

Harry chuckled, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. From all the crazy situations Louis had imagined with the boy, the one he was living was the least expected.

He dreamed about dates, late night of rough sex, stolen kisses, winks and provocative caresses; not tears, broken dreams and comforting hugs.

Not that he was complaining.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” Harry muttered, rubbing his puffy eyes. “I just met you. You don’t have to…”

“Hey, Harry, shut up, ok?” Louis asked, gripping Harry’s face by his chin and facing him. “We had a connection.”

The drowsy eyes of Harry stared at him on awe. It took him a little longer to answer.

“We do?”

“We do, honey,” Louis nodded. Out of nowhere, he got the courage to lean forward and press a kiss to Harry’s forehead. His lips brushed his milky skin, putting in that simple and innocent kiss all the weird feelings that were bubbling inside his stomach. “That’s reason enough to help you.”

“But…” Harry’s lower lip trembled when the talked. He started playing nervously with his hands, looking down to avoid Louis’s gaze. “I wanted you to like me.”

Harry’s words were barley audible, full of shame and embarrassment, as well as a fear for being confessing something like a secret crush.

“Come here, dork,” Louis said, patting the empty chair next to him.

Harry broke free of his grip, standing up to sit next to Louis, and buried his face on the crook of his neck. Louis received him openly because that felt right doing.

“Harry,” Louis cooed, inhaling Harry’s smell. He liked it too much, maybe. “A broken heart because of a family dream won’t make me like you less.” He spoke honestly, feeling the way Harry shook with his words. “It makes me like you even more.”

The younger boy raised his head and leaned back. Something in the way his eyes shined with amazement made Louis’s entire world find a reason.

“Why?”

They were whispering, trying to escape from a world that didn’t seem to give them a chance. They were trying to create their own chance.

“Because it shows how much you’ll fight for your family,” Louis confessed, linking their hands together.

The moment seemed to be perfect to end with a kiss. Harry’s lip screamed to be kissed, tempting every cell in Louis’s body. The surrounding air was light, lighter than ever, wrapping them in an inviting warmth to do more than just stare.

Yet Louis only stared. If Harry wanted any other way, he didn’t let it show.

“Roses are red,” Louis spoke in a low voice, trying not to break their adoration effervesce, “violets are blue,” he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the edge of Harry’s mouth. The boy closed his eyes at the touch, letting a low moan escape his lips. “I like you like crazy; believe me, its the truth.”

 

 

*

 

 

The first person Louis saw the following morning wasn’t Zayn, it was Liam Payne. They were school mates, but for some reason they never built a bigger friendship, just a good relationship.

Liam was one of those rich and quirky boys who liked to spend money in cologne and wear Italian shoes, something Louis didn’t found attractive. Honestly, he liked to wear Vans and shitty deodorants. Yet that didn’t stop them to be good mates.

“Liam,” Louis welcomed him, working on his stuff. “Nice to see you here, lad!”

“Thanks,” he said and sat in the nearest chair to the counter. He yawned openly and let his head fall on the table. “I’m tired. I want to sleep.”

“Welcome to my world,” Louis chuckled. He walked towards Liam and patted his back before sitting in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Supposed to be checking the store,” Liam explained, rising his head. He stretched his body comfortably and added: “I guess everything is fine.”

“Hum… yeah.”

Louis wasn’t sure if he was supposed to talk about Harry and confess that he was using coffee store to catch him.

No, he didn’t need to tell him.

“Have the bills count? I have to cheek them.”

“Niall knows that shit. Wait for him.”

They turned silent, sleepily drowning in their daydreams. The doorbell rang; Liam didn’t attempt to wake up, yet Louis turned to the door. He found an old guy wearing the most ridiculous shirt Louis has ever seen and a quiff that was supposed to make him look younger, but it made him older instead.

“Clients call me,” he said and stood up, walking to the counter. “Hey, mate. Morning to you.”

“Are you Louis?”

The question caught Louis by surprise. He looked at the man and wrinkled his nose with annoyance.

“Yeah. Do I know you?”

“No,” he said curt. Louis couldn't help thinking that whatever the guy had to tell him, it wasn’t good. “I’m Nick. I’m just here to tell you that your fucking sappy rhymes aren’t catching my boy.”

“Excuse me?” Louis asked, folding his arms and leaning to one side. “Your boy?”

He was aware that by ‘boy’ meant Harry, but he didn’t want to say it straight forward. Even when he tried to, he felt a weird sudden emptiness on his stomach and his throat closing.

“Harry. I'm the only one who can give him what he wants, you’re just a fucking loser who wants to get into his pants.”

So Harry had a boyfriend. Louis received the news like a stab right in his stomach. It took him a couple of minutes to recover, he wasn’t willing to give up quickly and show vulnerability in front of a prick like Nick, so he just collected himself and said: “What does he want?”

“That's none of your business.”

“Then it’s not my problem. Have a good one, Nick.”

Without saying a word, he turned around and walked to the back of the store. Liam was fast asleep on the chair to notice what had just happened.

 

_Roses are red, violets are blue,_

_If you’re heartbroken,_

_Come inside, we’re two._

“Your board message is lame.”

“I’m lame,” Louis sighed, who was sitting on the floor, hidden behind the counter. Zayn and Niall were doing all the work, but they were too much of good friends to say something about it. “That Nick is right. Niall, I’m obsessing over a boy I don’t even know.”

“Lou, don’t pay attention to a man who has to act like that to protect what’s his,” Niall opined. “Your curly boy probably isn’t happy with him. If the relationship works, there’s no need to be that possessive.”

“It changes nothing. I’m lame as fuck. Harry used me like trash.”

Louis meant it to sound like a joke and a silly comment; yet deep in the bottom of his heart he truly thought what he said.

“He didn’t,” Niall assured, serious. “He looked for consolation, Louis. He didn’t go to his man, he came to you. That means a lot. At least, it does from my point of view.”

 

*

 

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_I’m not in the mood to find something that rhymes_

_So get inside and buy a coffee._

 

Louis hated Harry. Of course he hated him with his whole heart because he should have been honest with him since day one.

He hated him.

Or maybe he just hated Nick. Or he hated himself because Nick was tall and he was short, Nick was slim and he was curvy, Nick was a good cock sucker and he was just a stupid helpless romantic.

Louis was too deep into his own envy, so he didn’t see when Harry walked into the store after days of a dead silence. He was too focused on hating Nick to notice the way Harry ran his eyes by the store until he found him, slowly approaching him.

“Hum… Hi?”

“Oh, shit,” Louis lost his balance as soon as Harry talked, dumping his coffee on the floor. Harry quickly bent down with him, ready to clean the mess with some napkins.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you, Lou.”

Louis didn’t reply; he avoided looking at Harry while they cleaned his mess. Once they were done, they stood up and threw the wet napkins away, and Louis finally faced Harry.

“The blame is on me,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “M’ sorry.”

“No, Lou, it was me,” Harry insisted. Louis didn’t add a word, so he took the courage to keep talking. “Lou… herm… I was wondering why the message on your board?”

“I didn’t come up with any nice idea,” Louis explained and walked behind the counter. Pulled apart by it was a way of putting a barrier between them, between  _Harry-who-belonged-to-Nick_  and  _Louis-who-was-the-lamest-guy-in-town._

“Lou, there is something wrong? Why are you… mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, Harry,” he muttered. While biting his lower lip, he forced himself to remain quiet, trying to sound as cold as he could. Yet being quiet wasn’t one of Louis’s abilities, after all. “I’m just… The other day your boyfriend came and told me to stop writing messages for you in the board. He said that he… Could give you what you wanted and I couldn’t.”

“Oh.”

Harry said nothing and did nothing to deny that he had a boyfriend indeed. That annoyed Louis more than it should, because he had been feeding his hopes and suddenly they were turned down by a stupid old wanker.

“I like you, anyway,” he said softly, yet Louis didn’t look at him. “I don’t love him. We’re juts… I don’t know.”

They remained on silence, isolated. They were together, just the two of them; reality seemed to be too far away. Only Louis and his Curly Princess, lost in a little world where chances still existed, dreams weren’t broken and a lifetime together was something possible.

 “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for having a safe fuck,” Louis told him bitterly, and he sounded ruder than what he meant to.

Harry blushed and shook his head slowly, looking down to his feet. His expression told Louis that, whatever he had with Nick, wasn’t what he wanted for life. It wasn’t what Harry understood by love.

Yet Louis couldn’t stop being mean because as much as he tried, he couldn’t be like Nick.

"Do you need anything else?” Louis asked, trying to put an end to their conversation.

"I’m just…" Harry sighed and bit his lower lip, clearly upset. Louis felt a heaviness inside his chest and an urge to kiss him. “You have the right to be mean with me. I’m sure Nick made you have a bad time,” he whispered.

"You should have told me you had a boyfriend," Louis said, arching an eyebrow.

"He’s… We're not good. He..."

"For fuck’s sake, you should have told me you already got a dick!" He said a bit too loudly, getting weird glances from some of their customers. "Whatever. Harry, fuck you. Fuck you, ok? I liked you and you used me as a tissue, just to cry your heart out. You fucking used me."

Harry seemed to have an internal battle between breaking into tears and jumping over Louis to kiss the shit out of him. “Lou… God, no, I didn’t use you. I… I haven’t been good with Nick and you are so nice to me and I feel so protected when I'm with you.”

"Lies," Louis muttered, but he couldn’t stop the butterflies (it sounded corny yet Louis didn’t find any other metaphor to explain the feeling inside his guts) on his stomach.

"Nick and I are together for our... baby."

Well, it all could get worst, of course.

“So there's a baby too? Fuck you,” Louis said to him, words escaping his lips without thinking. “Beside, how old are you? What kind of twenty-something guy wants to have kids? Be normal.”

Louis was hurting, so he wanted Harry to hurt too.

“There's no baby yet,” Harry whispered brokenly. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something, but the whole situation was too awkward and uncomfortable. “And… I’m not that young. I’m twenty-one. I just…”

“Well, I hope you get it, the baby," Louis interrupted him, but he didn't mean it. At all. “Send my best regards to the father.”

They didn’t add a word, their eyes spoke for them. Louis’s blue sparkling with pure jealousy and Harry’s green with utter disappointment.

“I never used you, Lou,” Harry whispered sadly, his voice coming out like a broken sob. “I just wanted to… Be with you. And kiss you. Is that normal enough for you?”

Harry didn't wait for a reply. Ashamed and sad, he went away.

 

*

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_You know what, curly?_

_I want to kiss you, too._

“Louis.”

Louis looked up to find Liam standing in front of him, furrowing and with a not-so-happy expression on his face.

“Hi, Liam. Why so serious? You’re going to wrinkle your handsome face.”

“Louis, not today. What the hell means the message on the board? You’re supposed to catch clients, not a boyfriend.”

Zayn chuckled behind Louis's back; his friend eyed at him with dagger eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry, Li.”

Louis was honestly sorry, yet it didn’t mean he was wiling to stop anytime soon.

“That’s fine, Lou. I’m not against that. But my dad…”

Louis nodded and Liam went silent. He was right, Louis knew it, he couldn’t use his job as a way of catching a Curly Princess. He had to be grateful that Liam had made his best to make Louis comfortable and to give him the biggest amount of free time as he could.

“I’m sorry, honestly,” Louis whispered. Friends were friends, after all, and Liam was only a good lad.

“Case closed. Zayn, could you make me a coffee?”

“Done and done!” Zayn nodded, approaching the coffee machine.

“By the way, Lou, who’s this curly guy, eh?”

“Harry,” Louis explained, resting his arms on the counter. “There was… Don’t laugh, ok? There was a connection between us, we always stared. I thought I could use the board as a way of getting his attention and… Well, it worked.”

“I’m sorry that I’m ruining your romantic tactics,” Liam joked, patting Louis on the back. “But businesses are businesses.”

Liam was right. The rest of the morning Louis spent it pitifully in the back of the store while Zayn and Niall did the work.

Harry was everything Louis wished for, really. Nice, cute, sweet… But there was Nick, and Louis couldn’t ignore that.

He actually believed in Harry, that wasn't the reason that made him miserable. Nick and a baby were way stronger than a simple desire to kiss and a strong connection between the eyes.

"I told you, Louis," Zayn said when Louis joined them again to work. Louis had told him everything about Nick even when he knew what Zayn would tell him. "He’s not playing nice."

"Shut up, you, heartless bastard. It’s your work to make me feel better, not worse."

Before they could start fighting, Harry appeared inside the store. He looked pale and tired as if he wouldn't have had a single minute of sleep last night. His watery eyes looked at Louis and he tried to fake a weak smile, failing miserably.

"Harry," Louis whispered, worried.

"Hi."

Harry’s voice sounded aching and painful; rough like someone who has been crying for hours. He didn’t know what happened, but he wanted to make it better.

"Go to the back of the store, love. I’ll meet you there."

Louis worked as faster as he could and then asked Niall to cover him while he disappeared to be alone with his boy. He came with two cups of coffee and a cinnamon roll.

“Hey.” It was the first word Louis spoke to Harry when they were alone in the back.

Harry was made a piece of trash. He was curled up on a chair, clutching a baby doll against his chest. He raised his eyes to look at him. He didn’t make a sound. He just stared.

Louis felt the same chills running down his spine, the same butterflies in his stomach, the same burning sensation he felt every time Harry eyed at him.

He knew he was far too gone for Harry.

“I’m not crazy,” the pretty boy said. “I’m just… Lost.”

It was all a surprise for Louis. It was so crazy that he didn’t even have time to freak out. He stared, trying to process the sight he had in front of him.

“That’s ok,” Louis nodded and sat next to the curly boy. He was holding his cuppa and the cinnamon roll, and quickly offered it to him. “I didn’t say you were mad. Want some?”

Harry eyed at the roll Louis was offering him and shyly nodded with the head. He didn’t take it, though, too scared to do it. Louis had to offer it three times until the boy left the baby doll and actually ate them.

He was starving. God, he ate like a starved man.

Louis didn’t have a clue of what was crossing Harry’s pretty mind, but he knew him well enough to know that pushing didn’t work with him. He had to wait. Harry would talk, eventually.

Yet, the baby doll…

“Hey, Hazza. I’m… I’m really sorry,” Louis said cautiously. “I’m so sorry for what I said yesterday. I was a dick with you, and you didn’t deserve it. If you want a family at the age of twenty, then it’s ok. It’s ok if that makes you happy.”

Harry just ate for a while without speaking a word. When he was done, he turned to Louis and stared at him with his deep gaze, that gaze Louis knew had the power to see straight into his soul.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded.

Harry nodded, still chewing his last bite of the roll. When he was done, he grabbed the baby doll again and rocked it on his lap. It was so weird, to see a grown man rocking a doll as if it was a real baby. It was weird and Louis should have been ashamed, yet he was—  _smitten_.

Harry turned at him, wide eyes open. He licked his lips and looked down at the baby doll. Louis didn’t expect him to answer, much less he expected Harry to break into sobs.

“Oh God, Harry, I’m fucking sorry,” Louis apologized, watching the tears wetting Harry’s pretty cheeks. He didn’t know if he should have hugged him or what.

"He was never going to do it,” Harry sobbed, burying his face in his hands. “He thinks I’m awful. He thinks I can’t handle a baby. He lied to me, Lou, all this time."

Louis was honestly clueless, yet his suspicious grew bigger and of course they pointed at Nick. It had to be something related to a child. He kindly patted his back, which made Harry turn to him.

God, he was so beautiful with his eyes splotched and teary. Louis felt guilty for thinking about Harry’s beauty in a moment like that, when he was clearly heartbroken.

“Princess,” Louis spoke as softly as he could. “Honestly, what—I’m sorry, Haz,” he said softly, trying to be sensible about the subject. “What happened?”

"Nick. He told me he was working on the papers for the adoption, to give me a baby," Harry explained between sobs. “But it was all a lie. He has been giving me shit for one year, Lou. I was so… Happy."

“Love,” Louis whispered. He wanted to break Nick in a million of pieces for making Harry so sad; yet simultaneously, he was grateful that he turned out to be a bastard. Yes, Harry didn’t belong to him anymore. “Listen to me,” he pleaded, taking Harry’s hand on his. “He's a big bag of trash, ok? This was your relationship so I can’t really judge him, but for God’s sake, he’s a piece of trash if he lied to you about something as big as a kid. Don’t give him the pleasure: don’t break down.”

Harry’s eyes asked for a denial, for a splash of hope. “Would I be a bad father?”

Louis was glad to give him that reassurance. “No, Harry, for God’s sake. You’ll be the best father in the world.”

Harry stared at Louis, persuading his anxious mind. “You said I was too young.”

“Sometimes I really think I need to shut the fuck up,” Louis confessed, caressing Harry tenderly. “I don’t know what to say, I’m frankly rubbish in this stuff.” Louis wrapped his arms around his boy and pulled him into a tight hug. Harry curled up on his lap, resting his head against his chest.

“Not laughing about me is enough,” Harry said innocently, staring at Louis with those green eyes that felt like a burning flame. “I mean… I know I have a baby doll.”

“If that mends your broken heart, Hazza, it’s fine.” 

 

*

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_If you want a baby,_

_Come inside, we’re two._

“Louis Tomlinson is officially pathetic,” Zayn muttered after reading the message on the board.

“You’re late,” Louis pointed out, raising eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, who are you, the employee of the century?”

Louis rolled his eyes and laughed out loud while Zayn took off his jacket. The morning was still a baby, quiet and slow.

“Louis, I’m being serious. You’re almost asking to have a baby with this kid by board.” Zayn lit up a cigarette, thing which was forbidden inside, but Louis connive it. “I mean… get in a proper relationship. Do something normal, please.”

Louis decided to ignore Zayn for the rest of the morning. The lad didn’t mind a bit, though, he was persuaded that his opinion was the right one.

Harry came earlier, his usually happy face a bit dull and inexpressive. Louis prepared his usual order, ignoring the ache inside his chest while he waited for a reply to the board message.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry said as soon as Louis gave him his coffee. “Thanks. For the message.”

“My pleasure, Harry,” Louis winked at him.

They stared at one another for what seemed to be ages, but were only seconds.

“Let’s go to mine, Curly.”

The walk to Louis’s flat was silent and peaceful. Harry walked by his side, his hand holding onto the sleeve of Louis’s coat. He didn’t hold his hand because, as much as he wanted to, he wasn’t sure if Harry was still with Nick or what. Louis had emotions too, he needed to look after them.

When they arrived, Louis made tea while Harry waited for him. Tears started filling Harry’s pretty green eyes, and Louis panicked. He didn’t want his boy to cry, Harry was too good to deserve pain; he deserved only happiness.

“I’m sorry. Sorry that— I cry all the time.”

“Hey, don’t apologize, ok? That’s why we are here in my flat,” Louis explained, serious. “Here we have no Zayn, no Nick… Just us.”

In a desperate attempt to calm him, he leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Harry immediately stopped crying.

“Better?” Louis asked, smiling.

“’M…” Harry said, stuttering. “Can you kiss me… deeper?”

“Deeper?” Louis repeated, his heart skipping a beat.

“Deeper.” Harry cupped a hand on Louis’s face, bringing him closer.

Louis closed his eyes inattentively, waiting to be kissed. He felt the way Harry’s breathing hit his skin; the boy slowly caressed his cheek with his thumb. He wanted Harry so much that he might cry if he didn’t have him.

“Deeper,” Louis said one more time and they were talking nonsense already. He didn’t think straight, he only thought about rosy lips and kisses and he wanted to kiss the shit out of his pretty boy. Then Harry leaned in and closed the distance between them.

The mere brush of their lips burst a flame inside Louis. He kissed him gently, feeling the way their mouths fit into each other. Harry breathed louder and brought him closer; cupping his hand on the back of Louis’s neck and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

He sucked onto his tongue, whimpering softly when the taste of Louis intoxicated him. The older boy loved every single minute of the kiss, and something weirdly bubbled inside, something that made him curl like a ball and want to be submissive to Harry’s dominance.

“Harry, pumpkin,” Louis whispered, sliding his hand by Harry’s silky curls. He could swear that Harry purred at the touch. He was such a kitten.

Harry stared at Louis intently, with his creepy love stare. Louis felt all his guts twisting with pleasure. He was the one causing so much love inside the boy. He loved Harry so, so much.

“Lou. I want—,” Harry didn’t keep talking; he just looked down and started playing awkwardly with his long fingers. Louis approached and interlaced their hands together, after leaning into press a kiss to his forehead.

“What do you want, Haz?”

Harry looked up at Louis, eyes flaming with desire. He squeezed his hand tightly and hesitated before kissing Louis.

Harry kissed Louis fervently, joining their mouths in an almost desperate way. His hands found their place on Louis’s back, pulling him closer, asking, begging, demeaning for more. 

“Make a baby,” Harry gasped between kisses. “I want to make a baby.”

It took Louis a couple of seconds to understand what his lover has said. He frowned, confused, still kissing Harry; until he understood what he meant. He broke the kiss, leaning back, and looked at Harry intently.

The boy looked back, doubtful.

“Harry,” he said, trying to be as nice as he could. “Haz, we’re both males.”

"Then be my baby," Harry asked with a husky voice.

Shivers ran down Louis's spine, the mere thought of being a helpless baby, helpless to Harry's desire, turned him on more than he had imagined.

“But,” Louis whispered, voice rough and low. Harry gripped his face with his hand and approached him, joining their mouths in a needy kiss, giving him no time to continue.

Harry kissed him wetly, his tongue tasting Louis, sucking, feeding him with adrenaline. His eyes looked for Louis's while he kissed down his chest, his tongue teasing him.

Louis was used to be the one leading the course; yet in that moment he was curled up under Harry's body, gasping for a kiss like a drowned man gasps for air.

He was submissive, letting Harry be the guide.

"Can this baby doll be mine for tonight?" Harry asked, tenderly caressing Louis's lower belly with the tip of his fingers.

Louis made a little moan, Harry's tongue sucking his nipple. Yes, of course he could. He could be Harry's baby forever, allowing him to do whatever he pleases with his body.

"Mmm," Louis nodded.

Harry looked up at him, pouting.

"Only mine, baby doll?"

Harry talked with a soft voice, like the one used with a little baby. It was the very first time for Louis; nobody had ever treated him like that.

"Your baby doll," Louis repeated, eyes locked on Harry. The younger boy smiled sweetly, leaning down to kiss him softer. Something inside him twisted, the way Harry was looking at him made him want to curl up in a ball to be rocked on his lap.

"Do you want me to play with you, my baby?"

Before Louis could answer, Harry's hand slid by his belly, the tip of his fingers pressing and sliding by the base of his cock.

Louis opened his mouth, closing his eyes. His skin, body and mind burned. Harry's hand was soft on his hard cock, playing with his balls, teasing, just fucking teasing.

"Yes, yes."

"Baby, where are you modals?" Harry whispered, smirking. He leaned down and sucked onto Louis's mouth, barely giving him time to breath. Louis loved it. "Be a good boy, Louis."

"Yes, please," Louis moaned, while those sinfully long fingers of Harry left his cock to run down his bum.

"You have so many beautiful things on you," Harry whispered. "I want to make so many things to you."

Somehow, Louis felt exposed to Harry's dominance. He bit his lower lip and cried slowly at the words, wanting to be touched but knowing that he had no right to ask.

"Baby doesn't know what he needs," Harry coord, his hand wrapping around Louis's cock. "Baby doll is so helpless. You need my cock, don't you?"

The simple question sent Louis over the edge. It had an instant effect on him, his body quivered, fire exploding on his veins and lower belly.

Soft _'ah, ah, ah'_ left his mouth, a way of asking for more without really asking, because babies don't understand what they want; and Louis was Harry's baby.

"Love your sounds," Harry whispered and started rubbing Louis's throbbing cock.

Louis cried his name as soon as he started touching him, his mind turned completely blank, his only thought was _harryharryharry._

"Baby doll is bad," Harry whispered and dropped his cock, leaving Louis in a state of need, desperation and arousal that was driving him insane. "You're too young to be touched like this. You're supposed to be an innocent baby."

Louis gasped and opened his eyes, finding Harry staring at him. His gaze was so strong, his face was so beautiful, his eyes dark with lust.

"Need it, please?" He whimpered. "Hurts."

Harry pursed his lips and leaned down to put open mouth kisses all over Louis's burning body.

"I don't want it to hurt," Harry said and Louis felt his breathing so fucking close to his dick. "I will make it stop."

Unexpectedly, Harry's mouth wrapped around Louis's cock without tightening his lips around it. He waited a little until he started moving his head in a circle motion, sucking eagerly. He licked the head of his cock before starting to suck deeper and deeper, his hands playing with his balls, making of Louis a mess of a man.

"Like it."

Harry sucked in and out, and every time Louis tried to shove up his hips and fuck his mouth, he stopped him with his big hands, gripping his tights, forcing him to be still.

Harry was in charge, Louis was just a helpless baby.

He loved every second of it.

He felt his orgasms building up inside his lower belly, his muscles electrified by the pleasure Harry was giving him. The younger boy's skill to deep-throat was something Louis has never felt.

Harry tried to put all Louis's dick inside his mouth; when he moaned, making a chocked noise, it made Louis's body vibrate.

Knowing how close Louis was to reach his climax, he placed his thumb on the base of his cock, in the exact place to avoid him from coming, and his tongue sucked the head of his cock vigorously.

"No, no, please," Louis moaned, delighted and desperate with the sensation of having his orgasm delayed.

Harry licked a little more, his hand playing with his sensible balls; until he let him free and Louis came inside Harry's mouth, who swallowed every drop of his cum.

"Baby tastes so good," he smiled happily when he leaned back. Louis was covered on a thin layer of sweat, his breathing faltering, still recovering from his high. "Can you come again, doll? Do you wan me to be inside you?"

If Louis kept doing everything Harry asked him to, nobody had to know.

 

 

*

 

Louis stared at his cup of tea, warm and dark. Silence owned the flat, the morning sunlight passing through the windows. The older boy licked his lips as he drank a sip of his hot tea.

His mind only thought about one thing: _Harry_.

He still felt the traces of his hands, the way Harry’s mouth opened to take his cock, his soft voice calling him 'his doll', the way he treated Louis like a baby… It all felt so real. 

The boy smiled stupidly when he remembered the way Harry asked to be spooned after. 

“Hey.”

A manly voice woke Louis up from his daydreams only to bring him into another dream. A dream where he and Harry were married and the only thing in mind was to have a child.

When he looked up at him, he found Harry leaning against the door frame, wearing his tight boxer, a big sized shirt and… something inside it. Like an actual baby bump.

It was ridiculous, because men didn’t get pregnant. Louis should have found weird the idea of a man with a bump, but Harry was smiling like a fucking pregnant woman and the excitement on his eyes was so big that almost hurt. He was happy and it made Louis happy.

“Harry,” Louis managed to say.

“You got me pregnant, sir,” he said, winking at him. He walked towards Louis cautiously, trying to keep whatever he had inside his shirt on its place, grabbed a chair and sat besides Louis. “Hi.”

Louis didn’t know how to react. Harry was so weird, honestly. They haven’t talked about the subject yet, they knew it was still between them but none of them had the guts to bring it.

Harry was hurting, Louis knew, but the situation was driving him insane because he didn’t know how to fix a broken heart.

“Can I?” Louis asked and rested a hand on Harry’s fake bump.

“’S a pillow,” Harry confessed with a weak voice, blushing like a tomato. “’M sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, love,” Louis assured, kissing his boy nearly his mouth. He didn’t stop touching Harry’s fake bump. “We’re going to be dads then, hum?”

Harry giggled softly and nodded like a child, his green eyes looking for Louis’s. When their gazes met, it was all said: none of them wanted to stop pretending because having a child was their new little dream.

They sat on the couch drinking hot tea, talking about random things. Harry kept the pillow under his shirt, caressing it like a pregnant mother caress her baby bump.

It was adorable.

“Do you want to have a big family, Lou?” Harry asked out of the blue, letting Louis in awe. He turned to him and shifted closer, their legs touching each other. It was stupid, only their legs brushing, yet Louis felt it like an intimate moment.

“Yeah. Actually, yes,” Louis replied, honest.

“Can we name her Blue?” Harry asked randomly. “I mean, you said you liked the name.”

“Do you remember?” Louis asked, surprised that Harry remember something so small about him. Harry just giggled.

“Yep.”

Louis didn’t know how to respond, so he just kissed his boy deeper.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry whispered, resting his forehead against Louis’s. “Roses are red, Violets are blue; we’re going to have a baby, a baby called Blue.”

 

*

 

 

Harry liked it gentle. He liked the tender caresses, the silent stolen kisses, the drowsy and silly confessions of eternal love in the morning. He liked to feel cared and loved, yet he also liked to look after the people he loved.

Harry liked to take care of Louis, who turned into a vulnerable baby boy with so much eagerness; craving all the love Harry was willing to give him. Louis liked those nights of soft moans, tender thrusts and the feeling of fullness.

In the end, what Louis liked the most, was Harry.

(He was sure he was kind of in love with Harry. Ok, not “kind of”. He was, in fact, helplessly in love with Harry.)

“I love it,” Harry whispered on Louis’s neck that night, while they were coming back from their climaxes, wrapped into each other. “I love when you make those little moans. I love when you plead.” The boy snuggled against the sweaty body of Louis’s and added: “I just love you so much.”

Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes. He squeezed Harry’s body, anyway, as a way of asking him to be his and only his. Harry maybe understood, replying with a kiss.

“Don’t be silly,” Louis said.

“What?”

“You can’t love me,” Louis insisted. His heart was too gone for the boy; he couldn’t give himself the pleasure to trick into believing that Harry could love him truly. The boy meant too much for him. “Not when, three months ago, you loved Nick.”

“I didn’t love Nick,” Harry explained, rolling around in bed to stare at the ceiling. “I was scared. After my mom and sister died, I was so alone, so lost, that the only…”

“Haz,” Louis stopped him, raisin up his head and resting his body weight on his left arm. “Did you mother die? Why never you told me?”

Harry shuddered shoulders. “I didn’t want your pity.”

“Harry, don’t talk bullshit, you came crying to me when Nick lied to you.”

“I just—“ Harry’s eyes turned to Louis, looking for encouragement to keep on talking. “Don’t be mad at me, ok? I don’t like it when you’re mad.” Louis kissed him for reassurance. “When mom died, Nick asked me out. We were friends and I said yes because I was scared of being alone. I… Lost my family that day, Lou. Family had been everything to me. It’s still my number one priority.”

“And I think that’s lovely,” Louis nodded. His fingertip slid by Harry’s milky skin as he talked. “But you have to realize, Harry, that you're still too young to have kids. You need to be strong and mature to finally be able to give your everything to your kids. I’m not saying,” he quickly added, as Harry wanted to interject, “that you won’t be a father. You are going to be one, and the best of all. But, maybe a little later is a little better. Ok?”

Harry nodded, still thoughtful. Louis gave him time to think and make his own opinion in the matter, knowing that Harry was witty enough to know what was better for him.

“Are you going to leave me?”

“Haz, silly head,” Louis chuckled, smiling fondly. “No. I’m not.”

“Are you going to be the father of my children?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I want you,” Harry nodded quickly, without a doubt in mind that he wanted Louis. “I want you forever. I love you, Lou. I can wait, I can be a little older, if that’s good for you.”

“It’s not good for me,” Louis whispered. “It’s good for our future children.”

“Our?”

Louis winked at his boy. He couldn’t believe how much adoration and devotion his heart could hold for someone else. He couldn’t even have imagined that life could give him the chane to have such a beautiful boy to call _his_.

He was more than grateful.

“Yes, Harry, our. That means I’m asking you to be my boyfriend, and someday my husband, and my better half, my significant other, my…” Harry swallowed the words from Louis’s mouth, kissing him fervently. “I love you, Harry. More than I thought I could love someone.”

“I love you too, boyfriend.”

“And, while we wait,” he added cautiously. “I can still be your baby. Would you like to?”

Harry smiled fondly, admiring how beautiful the boy in front of him was. He leaned into kiss him briefly and said, “No matter how many kids we have in the future, Lou, or how wrinkly and bald we become... You're always going to be my baby. Always."

 

*

(It turned out that Louis couldn't wait, neither. They got married and had four kids, Louis said it was enough. Nowadays, Harry is trying to have another. Louis thinks he's going to give in pretty soon)


End file.
